By Coincidence
by AdamantineSilver
Summary: Zuko Kanai, CEO of Phoenix Water Lines, and Katara Nanahara, aspiring journalist, meet-by coincidence-on flight M6273, headed to New York City from Chicago. AU.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hello! Silver here once again. I have absolutely loved _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ since I'd first watched it a couple years ago. I think the series was absolutely amazing, and it just felt right to do a fanfic featuring my favorite shipping from the fandom...ZUTARA! I hope you enjoy! Remember to review if you like!

Chapter 1: Flight M6273

He hated flights, needless to say. It was evident in the way he held himself as he perched uncomfortably on the edge of the blue seat cushion.

Zuko Kanai waited for his plane to take off, sitting uneasily in seat IA of flight M6273. Above all, he knew he hated the initial smell of airplane smell spewing throughout the plane cabin that permeated the air that he was to breathe for the next five hours-he was flying out from Chicago, Illinois, to New York City, New York, to scout out a possible location for his company's new headquarters.

He rubbed his eyes and massaged his aching temples, and the reality of the situation hit him again. His father was dead, and at twenty-seven years old, he was now in control of his family's business empire-the water supply company Phoenix Water Lines.

Unbidden, the thought of his father brought up long-forgotten memories of his other parent-his mother, Ursa Kanai (née Mimura). Why she had married his father, Ozai Kanai, he'd never known. She'd been one of only three people in his life that hadn't tried to make his existence a living hell, the other two being his uncle Iroh and cousin Lu Ten. Iroh had passed on in his sleep eight years ago-peacefully, thank the Spirits. Lu Ten had died fifteen years ago when he had been surveying a water main site, preparing for inheritance of the company from his father, and a pipe had struck him on the head, fatally injuring him. Then Uncle had died, and then Ozai had inherited the company from his older brother.

He sighed.

Uncle had always been kind to him, if a little crazy about tea. An afternoon spent at his uncle's even one spent discussing tea-had always been an enjoyable afternoon. Uncle had been a jolly man, always booming with hearty laughter and bad jokes with worse punchlines. Nevertheless, in the easy company of his kindly uncle, Zuko had always found it easy to laugh at any terrible joke. He'd been an infectiously happy man, and had always managed to pass some of that happiness on to Zuko.

Lu Ten had been eight years Zuko's senior, but not stuck-up or superior about it at all. He'd always been willing to impart some of his knowledge to his younger cousin, who had always looked up at him with wide, admiring eyes, trying to absorb every bit of knowledge that the older cousin he considered his role model spoke. He had always been quiet, grave-pensive. And that had been how he died-without a sound save for the clank of the metal pipe. He'd been killed instantly, and Zuko's world had been turned upside down by the loss of such an important person in his life.

His mother had always been quiet and a little sad-he'd always been able to see it in the subtle set of her lips, the way her golden eyes would darken when all grew quiet and one was able to hear oneself's thoughts. He'd always wondered what had had such cause to mire her in such a perpetual sadness, but he'd never asked. It had never seemed more wrong to broach a topic like that, and so he kept his mouth shut and never uttered a single word on the subject.

He was returned to reality (unfortunately, a plane) by the sensation of someone taking their seat beside him. He was sitting in the aisle seat and the window seat had already been taken, leaving only the middle seat open, and now that had been taken by the new traveler, who was taking a few moments to settle in.

As the newcomer, a woman, was settling in, he took a moment to look over at her. She had skin some shades darker than his own pale skin, and hair the color of milk chocolate.

She suddenly turned, and he found himself looking in ocean-blue eyes set into a face that looked to usually be filled with a light happiness, but was currently filled with a subtle sorrow that looked wrong. She looked to be only one or two years younger than he saw her mouth move, her lips form words, and realized that she was addressing him.

"Hi. My name's Katara, Katara Nanahara. What's yours?"

He found himself entranced by those ocean-blue eyes, then managed to shake himself from his temporary daze.

"Oh-yeah. My name's Zuko Kanai. Nice to meet you." Uncertainly, he extended his hand out to shake. She took it with a firm but gentle grip, and he could not help but notice that her hand was comfortably warm and slightly callused, a little rough at the fingertips.

"So...uh...where are you from?" His voice was slightly uncertain; it'd been so long since he'd met someone new for purposes other than for business reasons. With an internal wince, he realized how dominated by business his life was.

"I'm from Seattle. Y'know...I've always loved the water, even the rain. What about you?"

"I'm from Illinois...but I've never liked the cold. I've always been...more of a summer person."

"Ah. So why are you heading to New York?" Her eyes were bright blue, filled with inquisitiveness.

"I'm scouting out a new location for the Phoenix Water Lines company ." His voice rasped unexpectedly, suddenly gritty with tiredness, and he was reminded of his recent late nights, when he would stay up until 3:00 A.M. in the morning, get three hours of sleep, and be up by 6:00 A.M. Sometimes, he would stay up late enough to still be awake and aware to see the first predawn glimmers of light reaching over the horizon, and he would rub his tired, tired eyes. "So, what about you?"

"A job interview...for AP...y'know, Associated Press. I've always wanted to write for them." On the word "write," her eyes brightened a little bit. "Writing's always been my forte."

"Oh. Cool. Congratulations. The only writing I really do these days is drawing up reports."

"Wow. You must be pretty busy, huh?"

"Yeah." On that last word, the intercom came on.

"Hello, ladies, gents, and kids. My name is Teo Kuninobu. I'll be your pilot today. We'll be taking off shortly, so please keep note of the seat belt sign. You will need to turn off your electronic devices at the moment. We will alert you when you can turn them back on, after takeoff. Buckle up, and enjoy the flight!" The intercom cut off, and Zuko fastened his seat belt. Next to him, he noticed Katara doing the same.

Within the next few minutes, the plane began to move along the runway, with a grinding, crunching noise as the wheels turned on the asphalt that was the takeoff strip.

And in a mere instant, the plane was up in the sky.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hey! Silver here with the second chapter of "By Coincidence." I am so, so sorry for kind of vanishing...but I was away for the end of summer and I've just been really busy. But, I'm baaaaaack! I promise, I'll update literally whenever I can. Just a note, Zuko does not, as of yet, have his scar. Remember to read and review if you like! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own _Avatar: The Last Airbender._

Chapter 2: Funeral Suits and Troubled Dreams

The plane cut a line in the sky, rocketing upwards with breakneck speed. Air currents parted around the plane as it sluiced through the air, staticky wind rushing by the windows, the timbre of it vibrating through the metal exterior of the plane.

Zuko's hands were clenched on the armrests of his chair, white-knuckled and bloodless. He hated the noise, the crushing feeling that came with ascension into the air, and he kept his eyes locked on a point above and in front of him. A minute later, he shut his eyes, wanting to block out the fact that he was on the plane, to block out his reality, all the stress, the reports to file, just for a little while, if only for a second. He wanted to forget.

He let himself float, suspended in the darkness behind his eyelids. It was blissfully empty, void of anything that needed his attention at the moment, the distractions that always filled up his day. He kept his eyes shut, for fear that on the moment he opened them, everything would come flooding back. Sometimes, during the moments before he went to sleep for a brief respite from the world, as the first predawn rays of light would flood into his study, he would close his eyes and wish - wish that things could be as simple as they were when he'd been a kid, before Lu Ten and Uncle Iroh had died.

Zuko thought about those times and his thoughts, again, turned to his mother. She'd always been the one to tell him that work did not always have to be a priority - that happiness should be given consideration as well. Her eyes had been lined a little then, lined from the worry of raising two children and bearing the brunt of her husband's temper. That had been before Lu Ten and Uncle had died, and each death had deepened the depthless sorrow in the backs of her eyes. Then her husband had died, and that had dealt the final blow to her. Even though he'd been distant to her nearing the end, Zuko knew that every time she looked at her husband, she saw the boy she had fallen in love with, the man he had grown into. There had still been moments of kindness, though, even then, a smile, a touch to the cheek, a glance with warm golden eyes. The new, gaping absence of these little things had been swiftly inflicted. He knew that she was remembering what had been, and mourning what could have been, and because of that, Ursa Kanai had been thrown into a dark depression, depthless like her sorrow.

Sometimes Zuko thought the world was cruel. They'd scarcely cremated his father's body and scattered his ashes, and then he had been forced to leave home, to leave behind his grieving mother and sister, to scout out a new headquarters location - by the Spirits, he was still wearing the clothes he'd worn to the funeral.

He squeezed his eyes shut more tightly, then relaxed. He took his arms off the armrests and let them lay still at his sides. Within minutes, he was sleep, even amidst the noise and vibration of the plane. He'd grown used to it.

 _Zuko found himself in the doorway of Azula's room. His sister sat on the edge of her bed, which was covered with a red-and-gold coverlet. The room was impeccable, as usual. Her face was buried in her hands, and he could hear sobs issuing from her mouth._

 _This was a bad sign. Azula almost never cried._

" _Azula?" he asked hesitantly. "Are you...are you okay?" She shook her head, her sobs growing louder. He placed a nervous hand on her shoulder._

" _What's wrong?" His voice was filled with concern._

 _Finally, she looked up at him with teary eyes and a face covered with tear tracks._

 _She managed to whisper one word._

" _Zhao."_

He jerked awake to Katara shaking his arm, her eyes wide and filled with concern.

"Are-are you okay? I...I think you were dreaming...having a nightmare...something about a guy named...Zhao?" Her forehead was creased, her eyebrows drawn together with worry. Zuko wondered at this woman who had only known for him an hour, tops, and who already showed such concern. Her blue eyes were open as they gazed into his golden ones.

"Yeah…I guess." His eyes left hers. "I don't know." Zuko's eyes darted away, and he recalled the dream, the word "Zhao" leaving Azula's lips. He knew who Zhao was, of course. He'd been second-in-command to his father, but Zuko had never liked the man and his oily demeanor. Neither did his father, but Zhao's business skills had proved invaluable, and so he and his family had dealt with him. The dream had seemed...odd.

"You seem...stressed."

"I know. I've just had a lot of late nights lately, is all." The half-truth tumbled from his lips before he could stop it, but then again, he would not, could not tell anyone about his father's death. For the Spirits' sake, he'd just come from the funeral. It was too new. Too fresh.

Too painful.

He rubbed at his eyes, sensing the dark circles that stood out against his pale skin, and his eyes began to slip closed again, and he forced them open, unwilling to fall to his dreams again.

Katara, still watching his face with a look of concern, tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder, saying, "Get some sleep. I'll wake you if you have another nightmare, okay?"

"Uh, sure." His voice betrayed some surprise. "Um...thanks."

She let her hand slip from his shoulder, and he let himself slip into sleep once more.


End file.
